You and Me
by Colourmeclassy
Summary: When Sam gets some bad news from his parents, he feels even more conflicted about his secret feelings for a fellow classmate. After a pep talk from an unexpected ally, will Sam have the courage to tell Kurt how he feels before Sam leaves Lima for good?


_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or the song used in this fanfiction. Obviously. Haha._

"Do you think they know?" Mercedes Jones asked her companion as they stood in line at the Lima Bean.

Sam Evans took hold of Mercedes' hand, needing the support of a friend. "I don't think anybody knows."

That was a lie.

It had been two weeks since Mercedes and Sam had gone out for coffee and he had revealed the secret of his sexuality to her. It was something he was ashamed, something he didn't know how to cope with. Mercedes had looked at him from across the table, her head titled slightly to the side.

"But why don't you talk to Kurt about this? If anyone would be able to help you out, it's him!"

Sam averted his green eyes. "I can't tell Kurt." Mercedes cocked an eyebrow, and then it hit her.

"Oh DAMN! Do you... oh my God. You have a crush on Kurt."

"SHHH!" Sam loudly hushed her, glancing around to see who was in the coffee shop and could have overheard. He concluded he was safe.

"For how long?" Mercedes' voice dropped to a whisper. Sam shrugged.

"It just sort of happened. It's something I've been really struggling with for a while - the gay thing... you know, the school I transferred from was this awful all-boys Catholic school. Really strict, where gay guys were considered the worst of the worst. I just assumed that I was defective. Then I transferred to McKinley..." He hesitated as he recounted the tale, picturing the moments in his mind. "And I met you guys, and... Kurt." The tone he used when speaking Kurt's name was gentle and full of admiration. "But I was still heavily in denial, especially when Kurt started to bring those ideas to my mind more often. I tried to convince myself I was straight, and Quinn seemed like the perfect opportunity for that... but you know what happened with that. Then Santana, but I guess that just makes me seem even gayer, huh?" He laughed. "And yeah, maybe the whole time I've had a thing for Kurt..." He trailed off.

"Oh, Sam, you gotta tell him how you feel!" Mercedes nearly shouted again, caught up in the romantic drama unfolding in front of her.

"Drop it, Mercedes, okay?" And so Sam had changed the subject. It hadn't come up again, until today.

Mercedes had been wondering if Blaine and Kurt could tell that Sam was gay. He forced a laugh, trying to explain to her that that wasn't how it works. That was when they entered the Lima Bean, and lo and behold there they were - as Rachel affectionally called them, Klaine.

The three classmates exchanged pleasantries, Blaine sitting there all the while looking... smug. Sam couldn't stand Blaine. He attributed it to the fact that, maybe, he was jealous of him, but there was something about the prep school boy that rubbed Sam the wrong way.

As Sam and Mercedes left the Lima Bean, caffeinated drinks in hand, Sam thought about how he had just lied to Mercedes. Someone did know - Kurt had known. When Sam first transferred to McKinley, Kurt had suspected Sam of being gay. He didn't know if Kurt knew he noticed. Sam had played it off then. Now, more than anything, he wished he told Kurt the truth.

He had even more regrets that night when his parents asked him to sit down for a talk.

"Moving?" Sam choked out. "I just transferred. You expect me to start all over again at a new school?" Leave Glee Club? He added in his mind, but dare not say it out. Leave... Kurt?

"Your dad got a job offer in Chicago, and we've got a great deal on a rental there for at least the time being..." His mother began explaining away their reasons for shipping their family hours away.

"It's our only real option, Sammy," his dad explained to him gravely. "It's the only place I can find work. Unless you prefer living in a motel, it's what we've got to do." His father rubbed Sam's arm, trying to provide him comfort. Nothing made sense to Sam at that moment. Anger filled him, sadness, regret, frustration.

"I need to go out," he jumped up. He stormed past his parents and walked out the motel door.

"Samuel-" His mother began to call after him, but his father silenced her with a pat on the shoulder.

"Give him time, Marilyn." He coaxed her away from the door.

Sam just walked. He didn't know where he was going, but his feet just kept moving. He realized he had been walking for a while when he passed the sign signaling he had entered Lima Heights - about a fifteen minute drive from the motel he was staying in. The houses were shabbier in this part of town - paint chipped, unmown lawns. It stood out. At his old school, Lima Heights was feared and avoided. As he walked the streets now, he wondered why his classmates had been so quickly to dismiss it.

"What are you doing around this part of town, Guppy Lips?" A familiar seductive voice interrupted his thought process.

Sam turned around to see Santana Lopez a few feet behind him on the sidewalk. She wore her usual 'higher than thou' smirk and hardened dark eyes under long lashes. She strutted toward him, swaying her hips subconsciously.

"Drop the act, Santana," he snapped. "I know." She jerked back a little when he said this.

"Everyone knows," she said after a moment of recuperation. "And I couldn't careless. If anything, my preference for pussy makes me hotter than ever." She sniped back as if she were in a battle.

"Stand down, seriously. I'm not in the mood for your crap tonight." Sam turned to walk away from her.

"Now now, Trout Mouth," she walked a little faster so that she was now walking in step with him. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm still a little sensitive about it. Especially since Brittany outed me on frickin' YouTube."

Sam didn't say it, but he understood. "I'm sorry that happened to you," he said quietly. "I'm cool with it, if it helps. I don't like you because you're a bitch, not because you're a lesbian." Santana smirked at that.

"Thanks there, Gup. So why the long face? And why are you wandering around this ratty neighborhood at such an hour?" She pulled out at her most maternal tone for this.

"I..." Sam paused for a moment, considering the implications of pouring his heart out to Santana Lopez. She was a ferocious thing, small but deadly. She was the toughest girl he'd ever met, and yet he was beginning to see that she was also the most insecure. Yet her biggest insecurity was also his. "I kind of got into a fight with my parents," he started.

"Uh huh?" She waited for him to continue.

"They told me we're moving to Chicago." He finally forced himself to say it.

"Oh man, that sucks." Santana's sincerity caught Sam off guard. "I'm really sorry. When?"

"End of the school year," Sam sighed. "So this Glee meeting will be my last."

"Well, are you going to go out with a bang?" Santana asked, her voice rich with enthusiasm.

Sam looked at her strangely. "What are you talking about?"

"You should do a last performance. A solo, something meaningful, for us to remember you by. Plus, it will be a great last memory for you about Glee Club," she suggested. "Is there anything you've ever wanted to tell someone in Glee Club, but you didn't get around to doing it?" Sam was reminded of Santana singing Landslide. Only later he had found out that song was for Brittany.

"Nah, I couldn't," he pushed the thought from his mind.

"Really?" Santana cooed. "Not even to Kurt?" Sam's head shot up. His expression now gave him away completely.

"How did you know?" Sam inquired quietly.

"I have some rad gaydar, Sam. Plus, I've seen the way you look at him. It's the same way I look at Britt." And now there was sympathy in her chocolate brown eyes. "Plus, no straight guy would have such perfect bottle blonde hair." She chuckled, immediately putting her shield back up and becoming stone cold Santana.

"I've gotta go," Sam changed the subject. He couldn't deal with this conversation again right now. He paused for a moment. "But what are you doing in this part of town, by the way?" She rolled her eyes, apparently annoyed by Sam's lack of intelligence.

"I live here?" She pointed toward a two-story blue house, chipped paint and all. A small dog yipped from the window.

"I thought your dad was a doctor," he replied, not realizing how ignorant he sounded until it had come out of my mouth.

"Well, he is, but my mom works at a preschool. Not the best pay, so after the divorce, we had to make some compromises." She highlighted the last word with finger quotation marks. Sam nodded his head.

"Sorry, that was nosy of me."

"Nah, it's whatever, really." Santana shook her head, looking toward the ground. It wasn't whatever.

"Well, I better head home. My parents are probably freaking out right now," he murmured awkwardly.

"Yeah, you run along home, little boy." Santana twiddled her fingers as she swaggered toward the house with the chipping blue paint and the yippy little dog in the window.

Once Sam got home, he and his parents bickered back and forth about his short disappearance. They finally accepted that it had been emotional for Sam and he couldn't be to blame for panicking like he did. When they were done talking, Sam retreated to the sleeping bag he stayed in on the motel room floor with his iPod. He thought about what Santana said to him earlier that night. Go out with a bang. He reminisced about the time he and Kurt almost sang a duet together, until Kurt backed out. That was how he got involved with Quinn. He remembered, though, as he sang "Lucky," he found himself glancing toward his fashion forward schoolmate. He hated himself for not having the courage to admit this, to live as openly and proudly as Kurt. Most of all, he hated himself for not being able to find the courage to at least tell Kurt how he felt before he moved away. Go out with a bang, he thought again. Then he skimmed through his iPod for the perfect song. Once he found it, he grabbed his guitar from the corner and began to practice.

The next day, Sam walked into the choir room trying to be as casual as possible. He hoped to be the first one there, and luck was on his side. Mr. Schuester was organizing a stack of sheet music, putting into a box for next year.

"Mr. Schue?" Sam managed. His nervousness was evident in the strain of his voice.

"Yeah, Sam?" Mr. Schuester glanced up, a big cheesy smile on his face. "What's happening?"

"I, uhm, I just found out last night that I'm moving," he explained, averting his eyes toward the beige linoleum flooring.

"Into a new house? That's great." Schuester observed Sam's sad eyes. "Is out of the district?"

"Chicago," Sam nodded reluctantly.

"Oh, Sam... I'm sorry to hear that. We're losing a very talented performer."

"Well, I was wondering, since it's my last meeting if I might be able to sing one last solo." He now revealed the guitar he had slung for his shoulder.

"Of course, just wait for everyone to get here, we'll discuss what little business we have to discuss, and then you are center stage!" Mr. Schuester gave him that big encouraging smile. Sam nodded in appreciation and went to take a seat. He watched everyone walk in.

Quinn walked in next, a bag slung over shoulder, doe-eyed and faking a cheerful mood. She took a seat nearby to Sam and gave him that sweet, accommodating smile of hers. He looked away. Next came Mike and Tina talking about the Asian summer camp they volunteered at. Puck and Lauren Zizes came in, holding hands. Lauren was playing it off as if she couldn't careless, and Puck had a smirk of victory on his cocky face. Brittany rode in, a giggling heap on Artie's lap. Santana quietly stalked in behind them, her eyes focused on the naive blonde. Mercedes and Kurt entered together, deep in conversation. Mercedes sat beside Sam, and Kurt sat on Mercedes' other side.

"So, you just ended it?" Mercedes was saying it. Kurt nodded rather matter-of-factly.

"I just, you know when you guys saw us at the Lima Bean yesterday? He told me he loved me, and well, I said I loved him, too. But I thought about it, and I realize I didn't. I kind of started to panic. This was my first relationship, and I want things to go slow. We haven't even known each other that long. I didn't break with him per ce, but I told him I needed some time to reevaluate and have some space." Kurt explained, folding his slender fingers across his lap.

"I'd expect you to be more upset," Mercedes commented. Kurt nodded again.

"I don't think it's hit me yet. I'm just kind of coasting through life right now. I don't know what I want anymore." Kurt sighed as Sam watched Finn and Rachel, fingers intertwined and a wide, proud smile on both of their faces.

"Alright, guys, let's talk!" Mr. Schuester called when everyone was seated. He went over their unfortunate bout at nationals, but gave an encouraging, upbeat speech about how next year they were sure to win. He was still going away for a few weeks this summer to star in that April Rhodes musical. He then inquired what everyone else's summer plans were. People went back and forth - Finn was getting a new part-time job at Burt Hummel's tire shop, Quinn was going on a mission trip with her church, and Rachel announced she was auditioning for every community theatre show in the tricounty area. Everyone continued describing their exciting plans, until only Sam was left. He looked at the ground, gulped, and then spoke.

"I'm moving to Chicago. This is my last Glee Club meeting." The room fell silent. No one was quite sure how to react. "And since it's my last Glee Club meeting, I wanted to sing one more solo..." He stood up, his acoustic guitar in hand. He sat upon the stool in the center of the room. Mr. Schuester took a seat, and Sam prepared his guitar. "I've never felt like I belonged anywhere," he began, "until I met you guys. So many of you have helped me in ways I feel like I can't ever repay you for, and I love each and every one of you. I have some regrets, though. Some things left unsaid, and some opportunities I've missed. That's what this song is about."

"So get on with it." Santana announced, her lips smirking into the tiniest of smiles. Sam nodded, clearing his throat.

"Right." His fingers began to strum the chords, creating a melody that had been a radio staple a few years earlier. "What day is it and in what month, this clock never seemed so alive. I can't keep up, and I can't back down. I've been losing so much time..." He trailed off for a moment, his voice building up. "'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to prove. And it's you and me and all of the people... and I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you." That was when his sights fell on Kurt, who flushed in response. Sam could see the gears in Kurt's head turning as he continued singing, continued watching Kurt. He bet Kurt was trying to figure out if Sam actually meant these words toward him, or if maybe Sam's sultry voice was aimed for Quinn. He stopped paying attention and just let the music overtake him. His voice is raw, full of admiration, full of a school year long of secret love. He stood up, approached Kurt as he spoke the next lines. "There's something about you now. I can't quite figure out. Everything he does is beautiful, everything he does is right..." His voice trailed off again. Kurt - and everyone else for that matter (with the exception of Santana, who grinned like the Cheshire Cat) - looked thunderstruck. Sam just kept singing, he was just going to keep going, and deal with the aftermath - whatever that may be - when he finished. He sang the chorus again, and then his voice grew soft again. "What day is it, and in what month? This clock never seemed so alive." He dropped his guitar by his side and bowed his head. "I'll never forget any of you." Tears were building up in Sam's green eyes. Everyone rushed forward to take turns hugging him, except for Kurt, who had a sort of shell shocked facial expression. As everyone gradually returned to their seats, Sam stood there, bleary-eyed and staring at Kurt. He knew he had to say something. He couldn't just let the song speak for him; he needed Kurt to know everything.

"Mr. Schue, can I run to the bathroom?" He choked out, finally averting his eyes from Kurt's over-analyzing gaze.

"Of course, Sam," Mr. Schuester nodded in consent. Sam spun on his heels and headed out the door as quickly as he could.

'I shouldn't have done that,' he thought to himself, feeling the nausea of embarrassment creeping up his throat. 'Now Kurt must think I'm a complete idiot, and I know he's involved with Blaine...' He listed all the reasons serenading Kurt was a humiliating error on his part. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment he heard the second pair of feet clacking up the school corridor. He paid very little attention to them, mentally berating himself as he rested his head against a locker. The next thing he knew, he felt a small pair of hands turning him around, a figure pushing him against the locker, and the warm lips of Kurt Hummel pressing against his. Sam became lost in the kiss. Their mouths worked together as if they already knew every inch of the other's body. Kurt's hands gripped Sam's shoulders and Sam's hand touched the small of Kurt's back, pulling him closer. Kurt smelled like expensive cologne and new clothes. Sam's other hand reached to brush Kurt's face. He was not aware of how long it had been when Kurt finally broke away to collect himself.

"Thank you for your song, Sam," Kurt gave him a warm, loving smile. "I, I was crazy about you as soon as you moved here. But you tried to convince me you were straight so I gave up!" He laughed as he explained himself. Sam shook his head.

"I wasn't trying to convince you, Kurt. I was trying to convince myself. Before coming to McKinley, I was never in very gay-friendly environments... you showed me it's okay to be open with myself. But by the time I was ready to tell you that, you were with Blaine." Kurt pouted.

"Blaine is complicated. I think we're going to take some time apart..." He trailed off. "I think we're done, actually. I want to be with you, Sam." Sam felt bittersweet about Kurt's own confession.

"I'm moving, Kurt. I just... I needed you to know, before I left. How much I care about you." Without thinking, Sam's fingers brushed aside some stray strands of Kurt's hair. As if it were a habit, something they'd always had between them.

"Chicago isn't on another planet, Sam," Kurt took hold of Sam's hand and squeezed it. "I'd be willing to try this, if you are." Sam's eyes lit up.

"Really?" Kurt smiled serenely.

"Really. We've got time, Sam." And so Kurt leaned in to brush their lips together once more, and Sam let himself go, completely wrapped up in the touch of Kurt Hummel.


End file.
